#the regrowth is completely grey

[soapkaars]

The hairdresser being amazed that I, at 36 years of age, am almost completely gray. The only part of me that still has its natural colour are my bangs

[inkformyblood]

painting at the edge of the world (CWFKB #16)

Fill for Tearful Kiss, Cowboy/Western AU (minor gun use, not fired) @codywanfirstkissbingo

There is a known rhythm to life at the edge of the world; the slow bleed of sunlight across the plains that brightens to a golden wash that begs to be captured in oils and pastels, memorialised in a flimsy grey photograph. Obi-Wan smears his thumb over the rough surface of his notebook, and the rough lines of the horizon blur beneath his touch. He glances up, checking and rechecking the slow dimming of the land around him. He is still alone out here in his small homestead, his bed empty and cold inside his home. 

The blanket wrapped around his shoulders isn’t his. It’s close enough to pass for his preferred palette of myriad browns and pale colours, but the underside is a deep orange woven through the warp to break up the pattern. There are a couple of uneven spaces, the threads pulled too close together and the orange is completely obscured by the brown on top of it, but Obi-Wan loves it fiercely regardless. Love is a strange emotion, untethered to anything concrete that Obi-Wan could place his hand on and yet… 

He has built a life with Cody. 

Warmth blooms through Obi-Wan’s chest as he thumbs back through his notebook, lingering over a few of the earlier pages. There is a chest beneath their bed, a heavyset thing treated against damp and fire and locked against the possibility of prying eyes, and Obi-Wan keeps most of his artwork of Cody there. He can keep those memories safe even when he can’t keep the other man protected. He only has a few in his current notebook, remnants of a fleeting winter that charged headlong into a spring that stole Cody away weeks before he normally would leave. Cody’s smile is beautiful, wide and unrestrained and held close for a moment in a few dark pencil lines. Obi-Wan blinks back tears, a pressure building behind his eyes and the base of his nose, and he can’t help but glance towards a horizon he has already committed to memory. 

Still empty. 

He draws the blanket closer around his shoulders, pressing his knuckles into the hollow of his throat, swallowing around the weight of expected grief, and settles back against the creaking back of the chair. There is a second chair next to him, recently pulled out of the small shed off to the side of the property because the empty space is easier to work around than the deliberate emptiness of the extra chair, the extra bowls, the extra expanse that Obi-Wan has carved out of his existence to let Cody in. He loves him with every thread of his being.

The horizon is still empty.

Obi-Wan’s breath fogs in the heavy air and he stands, a lingering ache in the small of his back from his posture, turning back towards the house. One more day alone isn’t something he needs to worry about; if Cody is delayed, he can turn back to town and wait out the night or there are decent boarding houses in the farther flung settlements, even spending the night out on the plains wouldn’t prove a hardship yet. The nights are cool but not overly unpleasant making for a rough night’s sleep but Cody would be safe and warm enough to make his way back to Obi-Wan. Inside his home, Obi-Wan places his plate and mug into the basin, resolving to wash up in the morning. Tomorrow would come quicker if he slept and the absence of Cody is weighing on him more than he would have expected after so long apart. If he didn’t love Cody, then it wouldn’t hurt as much. The town thinks they are just good friends who have gone into business together, not uncommon enough to draw any suspicion, and there is always a careful distance between them, even here. Obi-Wan wants to kiss Cody, to hold him, to love him in the way he deserves to be loved. 

Soon. Obi-Wan scratches over his jaw, his nails rasping against the regrowth of his beard, and makes his way to his bedroom. The bed is big enough for two, often shared and yet it isn’t enough. Rage burns at the edges of his eyes and Obi-Wan grinds the base of his palm against it, settling himself down for an uneasy night’s sleep. 

He wakes a handful of hours later, long enough that Obi-Wan feels the heavy duvet of exhaustion slide away from him, crumpling onto the floor. He’s awake, uneasily so, sitting upright in his too-big too-empty bed, blinking out into the dappled darkness. Tears have dried on his face, flaking away as he yawns, beginning to sink back beneath the covers. The front door creaks, the latch sliding back, and Obi-Wan is awake and moving. The rifle on the wall is old but still serviceable, well-maintained in Cody’s absence, and Obi-Wan loads it, his head cocked to one side as he strains to listen. 

“Obi-Wan,” Cody calls, laughter colouring his words a deep shade of orange. “I’m home.”

Obi-Wan can’t remember putting the gun back onto the stand, unloaded once more, or the scant handful of steps back to Cody’s side, but he’s there, smelling like sunshine and horse. Obi-Wan throws his arms around Cody’s neck, hugging him tightly. He’s crying, he notes distantly, tears pressed between his skin and Cody’s, salt damp against his lips, and he doesn’t want to wait a moment longer. Obi-Wan cups Cody’s jaw, his thumb burning against the rough line of stubble Cody always has when he returns and the familiarity of it would break him open once more if Cody wasn’t holding him close. He kisses him, tears streaming down his cheeks and Cody grins against his mouth. 

“What a welcome,” Cody murmurs, drawing back enough to wipe his thumb over Obi-Wan’s cheek. His eyes are bright, wavering film drawn over them too, and a tear falls free as he blinks. “I missed you.”

[henbane-and-honeysuckle]

The Hexennacht that wasn't...and other May Day Adventures

An unfortunate spirit attachment issue has kept me from planning and carrying out the full extent of what I wanted to do for Hexennacht. It's been a very draining, stressful, and illness filled month.

So on Sunday I went to a local lake I've been developing a relationship with and attempted to complete my Todaustragen ceremony wherein winter/death is driven out and reborn as spring/summer/life. I've been planning this since February and decided this rite was more accessible to me in my current state than a wild night of witchy hedonism and spirit flight would be. Traditionally this rite is done around the spring equinox or Easter but it was still extremely winter™️ here at that time.

However on Hexennacht it was way too windy for me to actually burn the effigy, the wind snuffed out any attempt at a fire immediately. So I proceeded with the drowning portion of the rite and then let the spirits guide me on what to do next. I was guided to several significant hidden locations along the lakeshore that I'll be returning to for sure.

The following day, May day, I heard about the destruction of a significant prairie remnant just a few hours from where I live. Thousands of years of untilled land and unique flora gone due to random pesticide spraying. I felt moved to explore a local prairie restoration effort just over the border in Iowa to pay my respects. What I meant to be a quick check in on the state of the regrowth there turned into a 3 hour long hike.

The patch of Elder is just starting to develop buds and the Red Dogwood is very present. I intended to obtain some Cottonwood buds or fluff but I think I was too early for the fluff and too late for the buds. The Blackberry bushes have leafed out and the Nettle is absolutely everywhere. Down in the valley, there was a significant presence of Woodland Phlox, a very potent indicator of the local spirits and an appropriate omen for May day.

The hike was much longer than I planned and ended up being quite the ordeal physically and spiritually. I felt tested and teased, turning down paths that didn't lead where I expected them to or were much longer than I expected. With my walking stick in hand and the fierce wind ranging, I felt kinship with and watched by the Old Grey Wanderer. I saw parts of this land I've never witnessed before, despite visiting this location many times. I ended up walking along the very boundaries of the reserve and hiking up the highest point of elevation there.

Eventually I came across a grove of Juniper trees to whom I confessed being rather lost and exhausted, Juniper being a spirit much associated with Right Relations and gift giving, amongst many other things. Shortly afterwards I ended up back at my car grateful to be heading home and quite exhausted but appreciative of this land and this season.

[nightcall99]

Dream from 9.5.24

I was at school in the library and I knew I had to finish off some work because it was the end of the course and everything was due soon. In addition to the normal assignments I had to get done, I suddenly remembered an old assignment from a subject I did last semester that I never finished properly. I had received feedback on it after submitting it but never got round to re-doing it. I could see the teacher's notes/alerts in the student portal in my mind's eye. It was for AO's class. I had promised to complete it ages ago but had been going on about my life blissfully unaware until now when it dawned on me. If I didn't get it done, it would present a set back that would not allow me to graduate. I thought about asking one of my classmates for help, someone who had already done it. I could ask to see their work and use it as a guide to complete my own. It would make things so much easier and surely no one would care about plagiarism at this point, since the assignment was from ages ago. I was slightly panicked about getting it all done in time. (A recurring dream, it's always this one assignment that I have forgotten about and suddenly remember again)

Another scene where I was sitting in the library and someone was doing my hair, taking sections and brushing it out or something and another person came up and my fun of my grey regrowth. I told them off.

UH was in my dream, a friend from my university days. I can't remember what we were doing, hanging out I suppose.

[skinandscalpsclinic]

Hair Treatments in Wakad

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Skin & Scalps is a rapidly expanding medical, surgical, and cosmetic dermatological center in Wakad. Skin and Scalps Clinic’s doctors are highly skilled, experienced, and completely devoted to meeting the highest quality and service standards.

Skin & Scalps Clinic offers hair and scalp treatments and products to assist men and women manage hair loss (alopecia), thinning hair, and associated issues such as dandruff, dry skin flakes, itching, and dry or oily scalp, as well as psoriasis.

However, the outcomes vary from person to person once the therapy begins, you will notice that your hair is thicker and healthier, and you may even see a reduction in linked concerns such as those listed above.

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It’s a never-ending quest to have healthy, bright, and beautiful hair. Aside from maintaining a consistent hair care regimen and using only the best hair care products, receiving luxury hair treatment at a salon is vital for restoring hair shine and improving overall hair health. With so many different hair treatments available at salons, deciding which one is best for your hair type or requirement may be difficult. Here are a few salon hair treatments to try.

Hair Fall / Hair Loss Treatment

Hair Regrowth Treatment

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Mesotherapy

Alopecia Areata / Patchy Hair Loss

SMP (Scalp Micropigmentation)

Scalp Psoriasis

Folliculitis

Grey Hair

Frizzy Hair

Hair Masks

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Dandruff Treatment

If you are thinking about getting Hair Treatments in Wakad, we can help you make an informed decision.

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[ketuayurveda-blog]

4 Hair Fall Treatments in Ayurveda

In recent years, many people have been turning to natural solutions for loss of hair for thinning hair. Without knowing the correct causes of hair loss, the general picture indicates that poor diet and contemporary lifestyles negatively impact the health of our bodies, and losing hair is not the only one. Like your skin, your hair also requires nutrition from within and out. If your diet lacks foods nourishing your hair, this causes hair thinning and loss. It can also lead to loss in the roots and lead to baldness.

Begin with a balanced diet to maintain shiny and healthy hair. You can also achieve this with hair fall treatment by Ayurveda. The natural therapies have been very effective for hair loss. The most well-known ingredients in natural remedies for falling hair comprise Ayurveda treatments, herbal treatments, herbal supplements, and medications in some cases. For the best care of your hair and skin, follow the tips below:

Consuming enough natural protein.

Consuming the right amount of carbs.

Finding a balance in the dietary fats.

Incorporating antioxidants and supplements in the form of food.

Visit:- Benefits Of Shirodhara Ayurvedic Treatment And Importance In Ayurveda

The Ayurvedic Treatment for Hair Loss and Regrowth Concentrates on Four Key Ways to Prevent Hair Loss:

Head Massage Using Medicated Oil

Oils for head massage, such as Brigaraja the taila and Kayyunyadi Neelibringadi, Bramhi taila, and several others, help improve circulation in the scalp while keeping it moisturized. The head massage in Ayurveda assists in reversing falling hair, which can be the ideal alternative to pre-washing hair conditioners. A weekly oil massage on the head is another easy solution for the fall of hair.

External Destress Therapy-Shirodhara

The Panchakarma Treatment in Rajkot offers Shirodhara, and the meditated hair oil treatment does not just increase hair growth; it also helps relieve tension. It helps Relieve hair fall and nourish the scalp. Hair roots are reinforced by Brahmi Taila massage, which helps improve blood circulation, aiding hair growth.

Herbal Hair Packs

The application for Herbal Pack and steam and oil massage for the hair. Applying localized pastes on the hair like Bhringpushadi lep, Mandoor Bhasma, amlaki Churna, Triphala, Aloe vera Hibiscus, and Japa Pushpa are utilized for reducing hair fall. The combination can be used for hair loss, gray hair, and hair loss due to dandruff. You can visit the Best Ayurvedic Doctor in Rajkot for hair loss and benefit from the Ayurvedic treatments. 

Panchakarma Nasya

In the Intense Hair fall,  Panchkarma for hair fall should be done. Nasya (nasal drops) Nasal Drops of Anu taila all year long during the fall, winter, and spring seasons. Apart from other advantages that it provides, it stops hair loss and accelerates the development of hair. Nasya treatment nourishes the hair follicles, increasing hair strength and preventing it from falling.

The Ayurvedic Hospital in Rajkot provides Panchakarma treatment to benefit overall health and reverse aging. This treatment focuses on completely restoring your health, stopping hair loss, and preventing the greying of hair when done correctly. 

Conclusion

Healthy, vibrant, and beautiful hair can improve a person's appearance. Keeping the hair healthy can also be a reflection of the overall health of the body. The Panchakarma treatment is one of the best ways to maintain long, beautiful hair and overall body health. Ketu Ayurveda and Panchakarma Clinic provide the best Ayurvedic treatments to help you live your best and healthily. For appointments, contact Ketu Ayurveda and Panchakarma Clinic today.

Also Visit:- Detoxification By The Panchakarma Therapy

[stilloutofmyvulcanmind]

Feathers

Pairing: Harry Wells x Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Talk of Nazis and Earth-X

Summary: After the events of the incursion from Earth-X, you take a moment to unwind and begin to heal with help from an unexpected party.

A/N: So, this is just a small wingfic I’ve had sitting in my Google drive for ages

~ Walking into the small converted bedroom you were currently calling home, you groaned quietly as you rolled your sore shoulders. After the events of the last few days you were bone weary and wanted nothing more than to fall face first onto your bed and sleep for a week like all the others had done. You weren’t lucky enough to get to do that, and probably wouldn’t be for some time though. Caitlin had taken care of your injuries, but there was still some grooming issues to take care of.

Stripping out of the top layer of your suit and tossing it onto your bed, you stood in front of the large mirror, the one requirement you’d asked for, and let your wings unfurl. You’d had them for as long as you could remember, but you still loved the soft pebble grey feathers tipped in teal, even if sometimes they could be a pain. You stretched them out fully, carefully twisting and turning to examine the damage. The fights that had happened since Barry and Iris’ failed wedding had taken their toll and left countless feathers broken and bent and now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain had settled in. Before you had any chance of rest, you’d have to groom them, removing the damaged feathers so new ones could grow in their place. 

A necessary, but tedious job, especially by yourself.

Wincing when bruised ribs protested at your twisted stretching, you started to slowly pluck out the dead feathers.

A rap on your door distracted you from the task. You hadn’t closed the door fully, so when you looked up into the mirror, you were surprised to see Harry standing there.

“Hey,” you greeted, turning to face him. “Everything okay? I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” Harry shifted awkwardly, running a hand through already messed hair. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“I’m fine, just,” you gestured towards your wings, “need to take care of these.”

Harry nodded. “Do...do you need a hand? Snow said you hurt your ribs...it must be painful.”

“Oh. I mean, yeah, a little, but I can manage. It’s been a long few days, I don’t want to keep you up.”

“I don’t mind.”

Chewing the inside of your cheek for a moment, you nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

Harry moved quickly, entering your room and closing the door behind him. You turned back to face the mirror, just so you could watch him stand behind you. His razor sharp focus was purely on your wings as you stretched them out once again, and you knew he was studying everything about them, the way they moved, how they moved. With anyone else that kind of scrutiny would’ve made you uncomfortable, you’d experienced first hand recently the kind of intrigue they brought, but not with Harry. With him it felt different. Better.

You cleared your throat. “You’re looking for any obviously broken feathers, or any that are loose.”

Harry’s nod was subtle. Then his fingers were brushing over them, running one through his fingers and a shiver ran down your spine. Of course he noticed, immediately drawing back. “Did that hurt?”

“No! No, you’re good. It’s just that other people don’t touch them often, and the last ones to do so were y’know-”

“Nazis.”

“Yeah.”

Blue eyes met yours in the reflection, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You offered a smile. “I know.”

Harry returned the smile briefly, and you could’ve sworn the tips of his ears had turned pink in the low light, then his gaze left yours and his hands returned to the wings.

He was methodical in his work, just like with everything else he did, carefully running his fingers through the grey and blue section by section, carefully removing the ruined and the dead, and letting them drop into the canvas bag you kept for this purpose. It hurt a little on occasion, when he was forced to pluck a fractured feather that hadn’t quite come loose, but it was the good kind of pain you’d come to associate with healing and regrowth.

Soon though, even the pain was gone, and it was just the soothing sensation of Harry surely but carefully double checking his work, and ridding the last of the loose feathers. Your eyes fluttered shut on their own, getting lost in the feeling of tension draining away. His touch was only on your wings still, but it felt like every muscle in your body was unwinding.

“They’re sensitive,” Harry said softly, breaking the silence that had fallen.

“Yeah.” You opened your eyes again to find that Harry was watching your face now as he worked. Heat spread up the back of your neck and over your cheeks. “Having them touched can hurt like hell...or it can feel amazing, and the touch needed to do either doesn’t vary much.”

“No one would blame you for never letting anyone touch them.”

“I don’t, usually. You’re the first person I’ve willingly allowed in years.”

“Me? Why?”

“Because I trust you.”

The corner’s of his mouth quirked up. “I hope I live up to it.”

“I know you will.”

Harry swallowed, dropping his eyes back to his hands. He was still carding his fingers through the feathers, with less trained efficiency but slower. They were movements no longer designed to groom and tend, both of you knew that task had been completed, but for enjoyment. You wondered if he liked the downy texture sliding along skin. 

“Are you really okay?” Harry asked after another minute. “Allen, he said they took you from the rest of them, to experiment…”

“I won’t lie and say it was pleasant. It hurt and I was scared, but I’ll be fine.”

“If...if you want to talk about it...I’m not good at comforting, but I can listen. Offer a glass of brandy.”

You laughed softly, “I might take you up on that. But I’d say you’re pretty good at the comforting too. Having you here has helped tonight. Thank you.”

“Thank you, for letting me. I didn’t know if it’d be best to wait until tomorrow, but I couldn’t. I had to see you were okay. When I found out they’d taken you, I...I realized that one of my biggest fears was something happening to you.”

Harry’s words struck deep inside your chest, and you forced yourself to free your wings from his fingers so you could turn to face him once again. “That’s funny, because all that time over there, I was worried about what they were doing to you. I had no idea if you were...if you were even still alive and that thought was worse than anything they could’ve done to me.”

“I didn’t know.”

“Ditto.”

Harry raised a hand to your cheek, and on instinct you leaned into the touch. “Maybe some good did come out of all this,” you whispered.

Harry huffed a laugh, brushing a thumb over your cheekbone. “Yeah.” A long moment passed, both of you watching the other, but neither knowing what to do. “It’s late,” he said finally, “I should let you rest.”

He started to pull away, but you caught his wrist. “Stay. Please?”

His answer was immediate. “Okay.” He glanced over at the bed, barely big enough for two. 

“I know, it’ll be a tight squeeze. If it’s any help Felicity said she’d have my official Earth-1 ID ready soon, so I can get a proper place with a proper bed.”

Harry chuckled, “That’ll be an improvement. Not that I’m objecting to squeezing in.”

You laughed and kissed his cheek. “Of course you’re not.” 

[engineeredfiction]

Solace Among the Stars Ch.1 “The Stranger”

Finally here.

Rating: PG-13 

What: Crossover fanfiction comprising of themes and elements from: The Expanse, Blade Runner, Prospect(2018)

Characters: All original characters except for Ezra and Murtry. OC are based on actors I like such as Tobias Menzies (Greer) and Adele Haenel (Allard).

Plot: A group of banned Earthers attempt to improve their life beyond their home system, but come up against a powerful enemy.

Mood board is here. You can also check out the ‘sol mood’ tag

Aaaaaand if you would like to listen to music to put you in the mood then check out the playlist. I’ll be adding to it as time goes on.

Special thanks: @tom-riddleston-me and @yourpalmoony for being beta readers! I appreciate the time and effort!

   Keane was conscious long enough to feel her saliva boil off her tongue and the formerly inert nitrogen gas bubbled in her blood caused intense pain. Her instinctive nature forced her body to scramble back to the lander a few meters away. Yet, everything went black after seconds of the forlorn effort.

   The stench of stale metallic air woke Keane up from what felt like a deep slumber. This was not a sickbay or her ship. A dark and empty bar surrounded her; the only source of light was coming from the two windows on either side of the door. The deteriorated wooden floor creaked under her stillness. Behind there was a pack, it must be hers.  A tumbler of substance was in front of her; she cautiously brought it to her nose. Whiskey. She threw it back, picked up the pack, and pulled open the door. Tall grey mountains surrounded the desolate building , so tall in fact they nearly blocked out the light. Not far in front a path was laid out that led to a thick pine forest. She felt an internal pull towards the path.

   The forest was silent except for the sound of her feet hitting the ground. Her passing seemed to echo between the trees. There was no fear in her which she thought was strange. Ahead the scenery changed, there was a small warm glow at the end of the path and it grew in size with every step. Just before she reached the natural exit she was perplexed by the sight of tall sand dunes in front of her. 

   She walked into a clearing where the grass gradually turned into sand. To her left and right stood a clear line of trees that went on forever in both directions. The mountains loomed behind them.  Keane continued to follow the internal pull in her gut and walked up a dune. Once she reached the summit she paused to look around her. The desert only extended ten kilometers in front of her. Snow peaked mountains surrounded it and the smell of pine was strong. The wind was soft and the small grains of sand drifted over each other. For the first time she heard a sound that she didn’t make. She stood still and felt the wind blow through her long loose strands of hair.

   Her breath quickened when she realised she had no idea where she was or why she was there. Her wonder was interrupted by movement a few dunes over. A figure was making its way over to her.. The figure was getting closer, but she couldn’t make out who it was. 

   A man? 

   New smells reached her nose, a scent of alcohol and blood. Immediately, her joints started to ache and her left hand felt like it was fire. She looked down to the terrifying sight of her hand profusely bleeding, torn to shreds, and with bones sticking out.

   Her mouth opened to scream, but no sound came out. The figure was approaching, but took no notice to the gory injury.  Her head lolled back as nausea and vertigo became overwhelming. The fall into the warm darkness  was slow.

*************************************************************************************

   Keane’s eyes fluttered open. Seated in a hyperbaric chamber with a window on the door she slowly bent over in the reclined chair to see medical staff tending to patients. Her head throbbed and she squeezed her eyes shut. Pain radiated through every limb and settled in the joints. Her hand. She looked down and saw her left hand in a clear rectangle contraption. Below the wrist was a clean sawed line and a new skeletal hand was attached. Lasers travelled back and forth scanning and dispensing bio fluids to start the construction of the nerves. She swallowed and closed her eyes again. Her mouth was dry and her body relaxed.

   Morphine, she guessed to herself, that’s good. 

   She tried to remember what happened. Someone was attacking the lander. Greer was ahead of her and he was aiming at someone in the rocky mountains. Or was it the field? The field beside the mountains? It was nighttime. Keane didn’t see who shot her. She clenched her teeth to swallow the nausea. Whoever the perpetrator was, nearly killed her by decompressing her suit to the vacuum of space. 

  She leaned forward again and peered out the window. The medical staff were no longer tending to the patient closest to her and she got a wide view of the sickbay. None of her crew were in the other chairs. This could be good or very bad. The patient in the chair closest to her chamber was getting a limb regrowth procedure for his right arm. The skeleton and nerves of his arm were complete and the lasers started to build up the muscle system. He was reclined back and sleeping. His hair was wet with grime and sweat. The tuffs of brown hair matted to his face. He had a blond patch above his brow. Her study of the man was interrupted by the appearance of Greer.

   He strode in with confidence and charm that Keane was well acquainted with over the past two years. Greer spotted her face in the window after a quick glance of the hyperbaric pods. He smiled with  relief and gave her an okay hand symbol with a questioning look. 

   Behind Keane’s returned smile was pain and weakness, but she gave a thumbs up. Greer peered in with curiosity and saw her soon to be new hand. 

   “Cool,” he remarked. His baritone British voice sounded muffled and faint through the door. “Another two days and you’re out. Allard and Murtry are fine, they’re worried about you,” he added.

   Keane nodded and gave another thumbs up. His smile reassured her about the rest of the crew and he left the sick bay for her to heal in peace.

   Two days came and went. The doctor finished Keane’s final health evaluation. Her health had returned and her limb regrowth had been completed. She admired her new hand, which now had a new set of fingerprints. She thought it funny, if she had ever been booked for a crime it would set off confusion if anyone tried to accuse her based on her former fingerprints. 

   “Surprisingly the CT scan found no brain damage,” the doctor stated without looking up from her tablet, “your heart stopped for a little over seven minutes. Your crewmate….Greer did CPR for five minutes and you spontaneously resuscitated about two minutes after.”  She didn’t hear a reaction from Keane and so peered over her the device, “with no brain damage that is impressive.”

   Keane felt the lump wedged in her throat. She fixated on a stain on the floor ahead of her.

   “You’ll have a weird tingling sensation for the next week or two,” the doctor calmly stated. “If you follow the rehabilitation guidelines I sent to your PCA that new hand will feel like your original. Or better.” 

   “Thank you,” Keane acknowledged and promptly gathered her personal belongings into her weekend bag that Greer brought to her. She opened it and the odor of stale sweat and blood wafted up. Her nose scrunched up and she knew her next destination. 

*************************************************************************************

   Arcadia Station-Alpha is the last bastion of civilization this far out from the Primus System. The Primus System is home to Earth. When humans advanced enough to travel the further reaches of space through The Ring, what was then known as The Solar System needed a new name. Arcadia bore the title Alpha due to its size and grandeur. One of the many luxuries it housed was a public bath. For a few credits a traveller could get cleaned and soak in a pool of heated grey water. The aesthetic of the public bath recalls the glory of Roman architecture. In the midst of modern appearances and technology a revival of ancient art and decor made its way throughout the human inhabited Universe.      

   Keane departed Arcadia’s sickbay and strolled to the bathhouse; where the gentle floral aromas drifted throughout its dimly lit rooms.  In the locker room, she fully undressed, saved for sandals and a towel that were given at reception. She stepped into the busy shower room and turned an unoccupied  faucet to hot. The steam rose up  as she vigorously scrubbed off the scent of sweat and iodoform. She stood still under the showerhead letting the hot water roll over her body. 

   A desert in the middle of the mountains. A cool sandy desert. Earth? Somewhere else? Made up, most likely.

   Keane exited the bathhouse and the clean clothes felt refreshing against her skin. She smiled in comfort at the immediate sight of her crew. They waited at the foot of the stairs to the bathhouse. Greer, Allard, the pilot, and Murtry, who assigned himself the role of security area manager, chatted amongst themselves. Murtry was the first one to see Keane exiting the bathhouse.

   “Good to see you’re alive and well!” Murtry exclaimed. He gave her a casual hug, “How’s the hand?”

   Keane offered her hand lady-like, “As good as new. Feels a bit funny at the moment, but it should go away in a week or two and back to full strength in a month,” she changed topics, “fuck those guys. What the hell were they doing?”

   “Apparently it was an accident.” Greer added.

   “How?”

   “He…simply said…he thought we were raiders.”

   “We were picking up civilians.”

   Greer shrugged, “That’s what he said. His name is Axtin and he’s part of Terra Corp. They’re going to get slapped with another violation for this. Probably put them out for awhile.”

   “Good riddance!” Murtry hummed.

   “Someone has to topple the giant, it might as well be you,” Allard jested in her thick French accent. 

   “With my life,” Keane sighed, “I’m starving.”

*************************************************************************************

   Another part of Arcadia’s grandeur was the fifth level dining halls. They boasted meals for those on the go to the multiple course sit down affair. The level bustled with a variety of travellers and station workers. Some were well-dressed and others covered in grime. The rough ones were usually floaters who worked independently and performed random odd jobs. The money to be made was in harvesting resources from the assorted planets and moons within the half parsex area. 

   The sushi restaurant bustled with customers, some crammed up to the bar and the rest squeezed into tables in the cramped space. The crew sat shoulder to shoulder at the bar with little words exchanged as they quickly ate their food. Keane waved her hand quickly any time the prickly sensation became too much and somehow the movement calmed the new nerves.

   Between mouthfuls of ramen Allard asked, “You know what they call that feeling? Of a new limb.”

   “Oh ‘the stranger’.” interjected Greer.

   “Yeah because when you masturbate it feels like someone else.” Keane quipped. 

   “Really?” asked Murtry.

   “I don’t know…yet.” 

   Keane and Murtry chuckled. She was the only crew member Murtry felt, if only a tad bit, close to on a personal level. He admired her dry sense of humour. 

   A shadowy figure appeared behind them revealed himself under the neon glow of the bar’s sign. The four paused their eating to look up at this newcomer. His face was heavy with scars, but his clothing was finely made. After a few beats the man cleared his throat.

  “Which one of you is Captain Greer?” his voice was low and rough.

  Greer stood up from his seat to get on the same eye level, “I am.”

  “Mr. Wallis of Terra Corp would like you to join him for a drink in his office.”

  “When?”

   “Now.”

   Greer looked back at his crew and was met with silence. Keane gave him a nod.

   “Can’t hurt can it?” she whispered.

   Greer hesitated, “Sure.”

Chapter 2

Taglist (for those that asked and who I think might be interested, if you want to be removed send me a message):

@pascalisthepunkest @dindjarindiaries @pedropascalisadilf @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @a-carnie-and-a-cop @rzrcrst

[elvencheesewheels]

★  Links to some free games  ★

I’ve always liked little free online games and I guess wanted to share some! Most are just puzzle/point and click stuff, but I tried to separate them by other categories too. Though many will cross genres, and I’m also probably bad at categorizing things. I mostly like them all (except for some I may not have finished all the way/can’t accurately judge), but Personal Favorites are bolded!  Anyway, if you’re ever bored and looking for random short games to play for 10 - 30 minutes or so, here’s like.. a ton of them lol

-

-- Abstract/Artistic/Atmospheric (or puzzle/adventure games that just happen to also be Aesthetic) --

~ Daymare Cat  ~ Goblin ~ Antimatiere ~ Beachcomber ~  Break The Limits! ~ Bars of Black and White ~ Story Hero ~ Onomastica 2 ~ Hero’s Adventure ~  Journalière ~ The Everloom ~ ir/rational Redux ~ Anika’s Odyssey ~ a Grain of Truth ~ A House in California ~ Nature Treks-Healing With Color ~ The Majesty Of Colors ~ Escher ~ Looming ~ A Small Talk at the Back of Beyond ~ You Find Yourself In A Room ~  Don't Look Back ~ Loved ~ Coma  ~ LQD 1: Wanderful ~ Moon Waltz ~  The Day ~ I Can Hold My Breath Forever ~ Hummingbird Mind ~ Reverie ~ Where Is 2015? ~ Where is 2016? ~    Searching For The Elephant ~ Rabbit Fable ~ ImmorTall ~ PRIOR ~ Alphaland ~ Fixation  ~ It’s Just Tic Tac Toe  ~ It’s Just Tic Tac Two  ~ Gods Will Be Watching ~  Sprout ~ Lost Ethereal ~ Drifting Among Worlds ~ Mitoza ~ The Empty Kingdom ~ Revenge Of Dog ~ A Second Chance ~ Icarus Needs ~ A Duck Has An Adventure ~ Kristov Colin ~ Loondon ~ 

-

--Adventure-ish  (ones with more rpg or platformy stuff )--

~  Ernesto - A Quick RPG ~  The Book of Living Magic ~ Tainted Olive - Chapter 1 ~ The Splitting ~ The Splitting (chapter 2)  ~ Cursed Islands ~ The Awakening RPG ~ Cool Story Bro ~  Why Am I Dead? ~ Little Wheel ~ The Fabulous Screech ~ Summit ~ The Enchanted Cave 2 ~ Seedling ~  Tower of Heaven ~ Endeavor ~ Legend Of Kalevala ~ Just Passing ~  Blackwood Prologue ~  The Company of Myself ~  Bit Dungeon  ~ Frog Fable ~ BackDoor - Door 1  (I’m bolding this one since I’m pretty sure I liked it? but I played it like 2 years ago and actually can’t remember ghhg) ~ BackDoor - Door Two ~ Clockwork Cat ~  Diary Of A Cat ~ Verge ~ Songbird Symphony ~ Life In The Static ~ The Grand Grimoire Chronicles Episode 1 ~ Escape3 ~ Babies Dream Of Dead Worlds ~ Iridescent ~ Prophet ~ The Illusory Wall ~ 100% Complete ~  Hat Wizard 1 & 2 ~ Dreams and Reality ~ How To Raise A Dragon ~ A Kitty Dream ~ The Prince Edward ~ Rune Hunt ~  Necromancer's Maze ~ Mansion On The Hill ~ Stable Boy ~ Crown Dungeon 2 ~ Regrowth ~ 

-

-- Escape/Mystery (more purely  point  & click or ~Mysteriouse~ puzzle type things lol) --

 ~  The Crossroads  ~ ‘Cube Escape’ series:  The Lake , Seasons,   Arles ,  Harvey’s Box , Case 23 , The Mill, Birthday, and Theatre ~  Humanoid 47 ~ Samsara Room ~  Escape From 26 ~ ‘Daymare Town’ games 1, 2, 3, and 4 ~ 40x Escape ~  ‘Hood’ Episode 1 , 2, 3 and 4 ~ ‘The Last Door’ series, Prologue + Chapters  1, 2 , 3 , and 4  ~ Deep Sleep ~ Deeper Sleep ~ The Deepest Sleep ~ ‘Don’t Escape’ series, 1, 2  and 3 ~  The Earl Octopusor ~   Krystine And The Children In Chains ~ Time To Wake Up ~ The Infinite Ocean ~  The Ocean Around Me- Week One ~ Zombie Society - Dead Detective (this is a whole series but I’m only putting one since I’ve only played two) ~ Forgotten Hill : Memento (this is also a whole series too, but idk if I’d recommend them by listing multiple since they’re a bit silly/janky lol) ~ Sala ~ Through Abandoned 2. The Beginning ~ Earl Grey and This Rupert Guy ~ Home Story: 1971 ~ The Dark Side Detective Demo ~  Bermuda Escape ~  Return To Spring Forest ~ The Watcher’s Chamber ~ The Strange Disappearance Of Eldon Crowe ~ Soul Core ~ No Place Like Home ~ I Have One Day ~ Tipping Point 4 ~ 

-

-- Other (random &  just plain storyless puzzle games)  --

~ Fracuum ~ Soul Tax ~ 10 is Again ~  Socrates Jones: Pro Philosopher ~  PicTune ~ Music Catch & Music Catch 2 ~ Help! It's the Unfinished Shadow Game ~ Interlocked ~ This is a Work of Fiction ~ Silent Conversation ~ 400 Years ~ The I of It ~ Starlight Xmas ~ Factory Balls 3 ~ Very Organized Thief ~ I Can’t Find My Glasses ~ Haunt The House ~ Duck, think outside the flock ~ Apocashop ~  Electric Box 2 ~ Fields Of Logic ~ Continuity ~ What’s inside the box? ~ Z-rox ~ Wooden Path ~ Where am I ? ~ Five ~  Gateway 1 and 2 ~  Sky Island ~ Home Sheep Home ~ 10 ~ simian.interface ~ Klocki ~ Picma - Picture Enigmas ~ Unpuzzle 1 & 2 ~ Cardinal Chains ~ Scalak ~ Rhomb ~ Colorzzle ~ Where Are My Pets ? ~  Sugar, Sugar 1 , 2 , & 3 ~ Overlink Shadows ~  Black ~ Up Left Out ~ Stop The Darkness ~ Connect ~ Push ~ Eschernian ~ Evo Explores ~ Magnesium Gardens ~ Orcs VS Elfs ~ Full Moon ~ Tough Love Machine ~ Red ~ Mister Line ~ Valdi: Shadows ~ Loops of Zen ~ Stargazer ~ Tanooky Tracks ~ Hexelectric ~ RowRow ~ 

And I have many others saved in my playlist that I haven’t played yet, so I may update this from time to time with new ones, but that’s all for now! 

(note: I’ve heard sometimes on tumblr, post links may not work right during  mobile browsing or etc. These work fine for me on desktop, so hopefully there wouldn't be any problems. You’d have to be at a normal computer (they’re not mobile games) to play most of these anyway so I guess it’s irrelevant but idk)

[moutamadriss]

Various methods used for hair dyeing

Hair dyeing is an art and has to be performed with care. Only using a dye is not enough, using it skillfully is necessary to make then look natural and attractive.Women use herbal dyes or chemical dyes. Although chemical dyes arelong lasting compared to herbal dyes, they are also many a timesaccompanied with side effect. Thus herbal dyes are gaining more and more popularity day by day.

In this chapter you will get a complete picture of how to use herbal as well as chemical dyes, so that you can make your choice

Herbal (Natural) Dyes

Apply using rubber gloves, first to the ends of the hair within an inch of the scalp and then to the roots where the colour develops much more quickly.

Cover with a plastic or foil and leave for 30-40 minutes.

Then check the colour by testing a strand of hair.

Do not apply heat as this will affect the final colour.

Shampoo and rinse out thoroughly.

(b)Chemical Dyes

Types of Chemicaland their DyesBest Effect on

Temporary rinses:-Light or graying hair. Lasts until next wash

Metallic “crazy” colour sprays:-Will last visibly until brushed or washes off

Semi Permanent rinses:-Light to medium brown hair, giving a darker, richer glint; lightish grey or white hair to give darker colour. Will last for 4-6 shampoos.

Permanent tints:-Lasts permanently; regrowth tint on the roots necessary at 4-6 weekly intervals.

Highlights/lowlights:-These can look good on almost any type of hair, including brown, red and grey. Lasts permanently; roots will need retouching after 3-4 months.

How to use Chemical Dyes

After shampooing, directed packet by the manufacturer. Never over apply as the hair will become dull.

Protect your eyes when applying.

Leave on for 20-40 mts depending on intensity of tone required and rinse out

Never apply on eyelashes, eyebrows or hair elsewhere on the body.

Preferably do not apply when pregnant.

Patch test for allergies.

Section off hair with clips and brush strands. Wrap strands in silver foil to make neat parcels.

Watch timing carefully and rinse thoroughly.

It is advisable to go to a professional colorist to have highlights put in.

When buying hair care products online, make sure to buy from a reputed source to avoid buying sub standard hair care products.

[bave-de-crapaud]

Never Have I Ever...

PART FOUR

(Art by flowsofly)

Siruis x reader

Post-Azkaban

Reader is younger

2700+ words

Warnings: swearing, light smut Disclaimer: all characters are assumed 18+

Let me know if you guys prefer a couple of chapters posted at a time or one by one spread out. Thank you so much for reading!

——————————————————————

Recap: You grabbed Sirius’ arm, an arm that was mere millimetres away from his wand, and pulled him so he was in front of you. Backed up against the tree trunk you looked up at him and quickly muttered “I know this will seem an odd request but could you please kiss me?”

———

He blinked for a fraction of a second then, you had to hand it to him, he smirked. “I’m honoured you want to kiss me Y/N but is this really the time?!”

You huffed at him impatiently before hissing out your plan. “Yes this is exactly the time! We can’t be seen – as wizards. We can be seen as muggles. We look like muggles and if you kiss me he won’t see our faces – hopefully he’ll just think we are two people making out secretly in the park and not bother us further!”

Sirius was visibly impressed. Still he hesitated. It’s not that he didn’t want to kiss you -hell no- your lips frequently appeared in his dreams, it’s just if he kissed you right now he would risk losing his reflexes – he wanted this, he had wanted it for a while now but he was afraid that if he kissed you here he would melt and lose his ability to protect you if things went awry. However you were right, it was a brilliant idea…

“What are you afraid I’ll bite, Black?!” Your voice shook him out of his head.

His grey eyes, now dark and stormy with desire, excitement, and fear, bore into yours. He placed his hands either side of your face, leaned down and kissed you.

This was a bad idea.

There was no way you could keep conscious of the impending dangerous situation if he was going to kiss you like that; soft at first and then getting deeper and deeper until you could feel his tongue flick across your bottom lip.

One hand still holding your cheek, the other moving slowly down to grip your waist and pull you to him. He broke the kiss and leaned to the side, peppering your neck with more kisses, his stubble scraping the side of your jaw. “How close is he?” Sirius breathed into your ear.

It was then you opened your eyes and realised you had wrapped your arms around his neck. “Uh…um” You spluttered. “I can’t really see past your shoulder.”

There was a beat and in one fluid movement Sirius had dropped both his hands, bent down, grabbed your thighs and lifted you up wrapping your legs around his waist.

Your back hard against a wall of bark, he pushed himself against you using one hand to hold you up and the other to steady himself against the trunk before he leaned his head to the side and asked you again.

Wholly mother fucking fuck! This man! It took all your strength of will to wrench your thoughts away from the feeling of his thumping heart beat, hard chest, and intoxicating smell of vetiver and orange musk.

You squinted over his shoulder into the darkness, his wavy hair tickling your lips as you tried to calm your breathing. Yes this situation was potentially dangerous but it was the feel of this man and the touch of his lips on your skin that had your heart all a flutter.

He kept kissing your neck and jaw while your eyes adjusted to the darkness. If you had asked him why, he would have said it was to keep up the act of seeming like a couple but he knew, as well as you did, kissing each other felt so so good.

As you glanced around you saw and heard nothing. It seemed that your quarry had gone. To be sure you moved your sight line to Sirius’ other shoulder, but not before placing another open mouthed kiss on his lips. This one was more hurried. God he was a good kisser. He tasted like honey and something tart at the same time and as you laced your fingers through his hair he leaned into you further, pressing your hips into his while he moved his tongue against yours.

It was getting harder and harder to concentrate and just as you thought that it was going to be difficult to explain this moment as anything other than a full on make out session, it happened…

Sirius was in ecstasy, your warm lips on his. He could feel your breasts pressed against his chest and your hand moving through his hair. He was losing it, so fucking close to apparating the two of you back to his bedroom to spend the night worshipping your body, showing you just how much he wanted you when there was a flash of light and your hand tightening on his head before falling limp.

You broke apart, he looked at you - another flash of light illuminating your face – you were white as a ghost, staring at a spot behind his right shoulder. You had been discovered.

Not bothering to turn around, Sirius cupped the back of your head and apparated both of you to Grimmauld Place. Rules or no rules something was wrong and his first thought was to get you to safety.

Stumbling into the hallway, Sirius raced you to the kitchen calling out in the hope someone from the order was still there. Luckily Remus, Arthur, and Bill were standing over the table wrapping up the last of their reports for the next meeting.

Their surprised faces quickly turned to shock seeing Sirius standing there holding you in his arms looking panicked.

Sirius lay you on the kitchen table, still conscious but face screwed up in pain, sweat dripping profusely from your forehead.

“My arm!” You gasped clutching your elbow. “It feels like Its breaking! Sirius!” You looked at him with wide eyes. “I saw him! The second flash of light. I didn’t recognise him - he was short, he had long blond hair, a goatee, and a big scar running down his left cheek.”

You screwed your eyes up at the effort of staying conscious. This was the worst pain you had ever felt and it wasn’t stopping. It felt like shards of your bones were breaking off one by one starting at your hand and resonating down to your elbow.

Over your head Sirius and Remus looked at each other. “That’s Dalziel.” Said Remus. “He’s a B-tier Death Eater.” In your agonising state you still managed to look questioningly at Remus. B-tier?

“He’s a drunk.” Answered Arthur correctly analysing your confusion. “Voldemort wouldn’t use him for anything serious as he is often not on the best form, still…” he scratched his chin, “it may be worth it to check out what he and his colleagues were up to.”

Examining your arm, Arthur turned to his son, “Bill let’s take Y/N back to the Burrow with us. She seems to be losing the bones in her arm piece by piece.”

“It’s ok!” He said quickly catching your horrified expression. “Molly can contain the curse and then give you a potion to grow them back overnight.”

“Skele-Gro?” You asked weakly as Sirius said “Surely Remus and I can look after Y/N here?”

Arthur patted him on the shoulder and replied “don’t worry, with six boys Molly has repaired many broken bones before, Y/N is in good hands. You should rest, if you hadn’t brought her back here straight away this could have been much worse.” He turned to you once more now smiling and said “Anyway, Charlie is home and I know he is anxious to see you!”

“Charlie is back?” You asked startled. It had been an age since you had seen your good friend. Only a couple of years apart at Hogwarts you had bonded over a mutual love for magical creatures and the rest of your friendship was history. Smiling weakly at the memory of summer holidays at the Burrow you allowed yourself to be scooped up by Bill and carried out the door.

Before he left Arthur turned to Sirius, “great work tonight, with any luck we will be able to halt whatever unscrupulous side business Dalziel is running, and no need to be concerned, Y/N will be well in no time. Molly’s healing skills not withstanding, Charlie will perk her up – they were thick as thieves at Hogwarts.” He smiled warmly and added “ so much so Molly and I thought they would have got engaged had he not left to chase dragons in Romania!” Missing the mortified look on Sirius’ face, Arthur tipped his hat to Remus and followed his son out the door.

Sirius ran his hand through his hair as Remus poured two large glasses of fire whiskey. Handing one to Sirius, Remus pondered before asking; “there is one thing I don’t understand though. Why did Dalziel send a curse for Y/N’s arm?”

“He was aiming for my head.” Sirius said before draining his glass in one.

“Your head?” Said Remus incredulously. “I knew he was a bad shot but really!?”

“Y/N’s arm was wrapped around my head.” Try as he might Sirius couldn’t disguise his pleasure while uttering this statement.

“Oh Padfoot, you didn’t?!” Remus exclaimed. Knowing Sirius in his younger years this was not completely out of the ordinary but did Sirius suddenly look slightly bashful?

“It’s not what you think, Moony…unfortunately” beseeched Sirius “Look, pour me another one and I’ll fill you in.”

———

Over at the Burrow you had a long night ahead of you. Molly had stopped the curse from continuing to break off shards of your bones and administered a solution of Skele-Gro. Now you just had to wait for the pain to pass.

It was great to see Charlie, you had missed your friend and couldn’t wait to hear about his adventures. However the regrowth of your bones was so painful Molly had insisted of giving you a sleeping draught in the hope you would sleep through the more painful parts of the healing process.

Charlie had offered you his bed while he took the couch downstairs, so it was in a small but cosy room where multiple posters of dragons watched you close your eyes while thinking of Sirius’ hands, his perfect mouth, and the taste of him, as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

Sirius was still up. After explaining the majority of the night’s events to Remus, Sirius’ adrenaline had started to finally die down.

“How was it?” Remus asked after a moments silence.

“It was hard.” Sirius answered thinking he was referring to the mission in general.

“I bet it was!” Remus laughed his hazel eyes twinkling with mirth.

Sirius threw his head back and barked out a laugh and the two of them chatted happily for the next hour. As they finished their drinks, Remus stood to leave. Casting one look at Sirius he paused before speaking: “they are probably not more than friends, Padfoot.”

Sirius raised his head and gave a tight lipped smile, nodding to his friend as he followed Arthur’s route out the door and into the night.

Hopefully Remus was right. Sirius rubbed his jaw. He was fairly certain the feeling was mutual between you and himself. Tired yet feeling somewhat elated, Sirius gathered himself up, made his way upstairs and got ready for bed. He hoped you were all right and not in too much pain. He wanted to see you desperately and tell you he had very much enjoyed this evening.

Though kissing him was part of a cover, the way you touched him and moved your lips against his was, he was sure, not. Maybe it was wishful thinking but the sparks that flew when you kissed and the look in your eyes when he held you said something.

Dozing lightly with thoughts pouring through his head, Sirius decided that he would go and see you tomorrow, bring you coffee and gauge where your feelings were at. Hopefully they matched his.

He smiled slightly in his doze and allowed himself to recall your legs wrapped around and squeezing his waist.

Though his sleep was not dreamless like yours, it was just as pleasant and invigorating.

———

You were awake early, your arm had fully recovered and after a hearty breakfast at the Weasley’s you were feeling good, better than good…

“What are you grinning at?” Charlie gently shoved your shoulder. He had offered to escort you to work for two reasons: 1. He wanted to drop in on his father who had left for the Ministry before anyone else was awake; and 2. To help you stop his mother fussing over you.

“Nothing!” You lied trying to hide your smile. “Just really pleased with Sirius and my work on the mission last night.”

“Oh yeah? Which ‘work’ would you be referring to?” Charlie held up his hands and mimed quotation marks in mid air as he said the word: work. “Don’t forget, sister from another mister, I can read you like a book!”

You rolled your eyes and blew a raspberry poking Charlie through the Ministry entrance.

————

Sirius was having a good morning as well. He woke early, got up, dressed, and made his way out of the house with a plan to visit you at work and see where the land lay. Wearing fitted black jeans and a light blue shirt Sirius looked fresh and handsome. Certainly the barista at the coffee shop thought so and told him as such. Chuckling quietly to himself Sirius picked up two coffees and continued on his way to the Ministry.

————

“So this is your office?” Charlie hummed approvingly looking around at a large mahogany room on the first floor. “Shared office” you corrected “all the junior aurors have a desk in here.” As you placed your jacket on your chair you caught sight of a cell phone on your desk. “Oh bugger, I left my phone here last night.” Noticing the 20 missed calls flashing across the screen you looked at Charlie, “is there any chance your Mum called my parents and told them what happened last night?”

Charlie shrugged “probably, you know my Mother, she worries!” As he said that your phone vibrated in your hand indicating an incoming call. Most of your wizarding friends didn’t keep or know about a cell phone, it was surprising yours was working surrounded by a lot of magic, most muggle technology didn’t, but you figured your Mother’s determination to get hold of you knew no bounds – especially when she thought you were in trouble.

“Mum! Hi! …yes…no I’m fine…it’s just a…it’s just a scratch.” Charlie grinned while flipping through the case files on your desk. Your Mother reminded him of his and he would not want to be you right now. You will have to make it up to her for worrying her so.

“Mum I can’t hear you? It’s cutting…I’m at work…let’s talk Friday night at dinner?”

“FRIDAY NIGHT LETS DO DINNER?” You half yelled down the phone while slapping Charlie’s hand away from the perfectly ordered files on your desk. You were proud of those and he did treat you like a little sister - messing up your hair at any chance he got, tripping you up in corridors - you wouldn’t put it past him to ‘accidentally’ spill your papers on the floor. He was really like Fred and George sometimes.

“I’ll see you latter, gonna go find Dad” he mouthed backing out of the room. You nodded and resumed your conversation on the phone: “Ok Mum…ok…” god the signal was awful in here. “I LOVE YOU!”

“I LOVE YOU TOO, DARLING!” yelled Charlie in jest as you hung up the phone. He grinned cheekily and walked out the door.

You poked your tongue out at him and silently thanked the timing gods that none of your colleagues were in and no one had heard that conversation.

Someone did hear it though, or at least part of it…

He had heard ‘Dinner on Friday’ Followed by ‘ love you’ with the final blow seeing Charlie Weasley back out of your office proclaiming that he loved you too.

Sirius stood frozen on the first floor landing, holding two coffees and feeling his heart drop to the floor. ~more than friends~

That was the moment when Sirius realised he was in love with you. It was also when he started sleeping around.

———

Tag list: @aboutpotter @songforhema @sirius-lysad @riddikuluslypotter @emmamass24 @belladonnarey

[theeternalspace]

In Memoriam 18

Summary: The metal tree had always fascinated the Prince.

Only, it wasn’t a tree.

And, as it turned out, he wasn’t really a Prince. Instead he was… a side of someone’s personality? He doesn’t remember Thomas, or the other sides, those who call themselves his friends. He doesn’t really remember anything, not even his own name, no matter the efforts of Patton, Logan or Virgil. He must venture back into the Wardrobe door, back to the metal tree in an attempt to recover his missing memories and regain everything he has lost.

But perhaps some doors are best left closed for a reason. And perhaps some personas should remain in the ground where they have been buried.

Story Warnings: Sympathetic/Grey Deceit Sanders. He is trying his best you guys. Anxiety. Self doubt and self loathing. Fantasy fighting. Verbal fighting. Threatening behaviour. Blood and injury. Memory loss. Drowning. Near death.

Previous || Next

Spring had come to Narnia.

The snow was melting under foot as Roman moved through the forest, white vanishing almost before his eyes, bright green shoots poking up everywhere as the grass began to renew itself. On the tree branches above, he could see countless leaves starting to unroll themselves as they began to shake themselves into new life. It wouldn't be long before the flowers followed suit and soon enough where once there had been an endless expanse of white, there would be a riot of colour as life did what it did best.

He could hear plenty of signs of animal life as well, birdsong in what had previously been a foreboding silent forest, the merry call of one bird to another. They filled the air as he stumbled through the trees, searching for the edge of the forest. Creatures rustled in the undergrowth all around his feet, the whole area alive with the best that this world had to offer.

It was all very lovely, hopeful, inspiring. Renewal and regrowth, the passing of the seasons and so on and so on. 

It also wasn’t what he had come here to see. Roman didn’t have time to care about the miracle that was happening here, his attention fixed only on finding his way out of the trees and to the windswept barren hilltop that would hold the stone table. Where hopefully, he would find Virgil, and at long last they could talk. Assuming, of course, that he hadn't been an utter fool in allowing himself to trust Deceit. Assuming that the side he literally knew as a liar, was telling the truth.

If he wasn’t, Roman would just have to pay him another visit, one that was far less friendly than the last one.

Until then, he would hold onto the hope that he had been right to trust him and that Virgil would be found at the end of this adventure. As soon as he made it to the hilltop Roman could have summoned one of the talking horses to aid him, he could have ridden the length of the imaginary world as fast as he could in order to reach the stone table and finally confront Virgil. He could have used that time to talk to them, thank them or try and work out if Deceit had changed anything else in the world, if there were any further surprises lurking in wait for him. 

There wasn’t time for that. He had no desire to talk to anyone else, to cover another few pages of the story in a journey, not right now at least. He needed to simply find Virgil. Nothing else came close to mattering but finding Virgil. 

Trees thinned in front of him, the thick trunks growing steadily less in number until he could see the fields. Spring was doing its job here too. The grass was already thick, while dozens and dozens of daisies blooming over the carpet area in front of him, brilliant flecks of a warm white that was so different from the snow. It was a thing of beauty and Roman barely noticed it, his gaze lifted higher. 

In the far distance, he could made out of a series of hills rising up in the air, lining the horizon. The one near the middle of his point of view was taller than the rest, a couple of jagged black lines pointing up into the sky from it. The silhouettes of the stones. Even if Roman called a horse now, it would still take him hours to travel that distance and that wouldn’t do. 

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply, evenly. Mentally, he reached out across the Imagination, letting himself stretch out, feeling all the invisible little points where he had sown this world together. They all responded, snapping to attention at his whims and humming with gentle energy. He could distort the reality of this world with all these threats wrapped around his fingers, he could change whatever he wanted to. Right now, what Roman wanted was to get from point A to B in the least possible time. 

It was cheating but by this stage Roman no longer cared. They had been fighting for so long now, they had struggled against the odds and waded through so much trouble, it was beyond time that they finally got their happy ending. Or a happy pause at least, and Roman knew that sooner or later another dramatic event would pop up, another dilemma for them to face. Hopefully they would be able to face it as a family once more, they could be a united front and guide Thomas through whatever life had to throw at him this time. 

But that was in the future. That was a problem for another day and just because Roman knew another day would come, that didn’t mean he had to spend all his time worrying about it. Instead, it meant they had to enjoy the quiet moments. Like right now. Roman was going to enjoy this moment - or maybe the moment after it, when Virgil had completely forgive him and everything was good again. Everything would be good again. It had to be. He pulled on some of the invisible threads in his mind, weaving a new pattern in the fabric of this world, a simple little symbol just for a moment, just to get what he needed. 

He stepped from tree to hill in a single bound, the edges of reality shimmering and creasing slightly as Roman simply moved from one area to another. Just for an instant, for that moment between breaths, the whole world seemed to fold in on itself, so that in that single second of time, there really was nothing between the two points, as if the two important landmarks simply bumped up next to each other.

Roman took another step, feeling the world exhale and stretch back out around him, the knotted pattern slipping lose as the world reverted to how it had been before. Fields of daisies returned to the land between them, animals and birds repeated exactly where they had last been, flying as though nothing had even happened. Just a little hiccup in the world and everything was as it should be once more. 

His legs felt wobbly for a moment, a little waver as he sought to find his balance all over again. The sensation would pass soon enough, once the rest of him caught up with the fact that he had managed to move miles in a split second. 

Large, upright pillars lined the top of the hill, a stone circle that looked as though it had been there for hundreds of years. They were worn with age, one or two crumbling away, bones of fingers clawing towards the pale blue sky, bleached almost white by the endless winter sun. In the middle rested an enormous flat stone, polished to a near gleam, supported by four square, short stones, each bearing an equal weight. 

It was a powerful place and a powerful sight, but Roman’s attention wasn’t on the stone circle but at the other person within it. There, with his back to him, hood pulled up as he stared out over the sprawling landscape was a very familiar figure. 

Virgil.

Roman had done it at last. He had found him and they could finally talk. It was fitting, perhaps, that it should be here, that they should talk around this table when so many other stories had been told here too. Perhaps not stories they had ever actually taken part in, but the history of this world was carved into these stones. They remembered things that had never happened. They would remember this too. 

He was going to have to be very careful, was going to have to approach this with skill and guile. Just rushing in was not the way to do it and he forced himself to keep breathing evenly, to actually take in the surrounding area just in case. Roman frowned a little as he stared at the stone table, for a moment focused on that and not the purple clad figure perched on the edge of it. 

It was still intact. 

One giant slab of stone, impossibly large. It was a stunning piece of craftsmanship but it shouldn’t be here in this state. They had reached the end of the story. The White Wizard had been defeated, peace had been made, spring had returned to the previously ice clad land. The happy ending of the story was all but dancing across the world with every passing moment. 

The stone should be cracked in half, broken under the weight of a good deed.

Even though Roman didn’t consider Virgil a traitor, he still had sacrificed himself for the greater good. Virgil had risked and given up everything he cared for another. He had done the right thing and that should have been enough for the story which was still playing out for them. The stone needed to crack for the story to end, things had to slip into their predestined place. The stone should have cracked, Roman had expected it to crack and he was in charge once more, his energy and power filled this world.  

Unless Virgil didn’t consider it a worthy enough sacrifice and his guilt was overwhelming the story, fusing together what was meant to be made in two. It had to be a truly powerful guilt to be that strong but if anyone could feel self hate that strongly, it would be Virgil.

Roman couldn’t take the silence any longer, the horrible thoughts that were running through his mind, dozens of little rats in mazes, each clawing at themselves as they tried to find a way out. 

“Virgil?” Roman called softly and Virgil had to know he was there, he had to have heard him coming. If not the little pop as he appeared out of thin air in a manner akin to a Dark Side, then surely the sound of his breathing would have tipped him off. It was hard to sneak up on the literal embodiment of anxiety. 

The other man jumped, flinching as he slipped off the table to spin around to look at him, eyes wide and for one grain of sand slipping through the hourglass, his expression was unguarded, everything Virgil was feeling burning in his eyes. They stared across the stone table at each other. Roman felt as though the very air had been stolen from his lungs as he looked into Virgil’s eyes, taking in the pain and agony that was reflected there. Roman had been right - the guilt was so strong here, strong enough he could almost reach out and touch it in the air around them. There was an ocean of regret in Virgil’s gaze, a pain that seemed to sink deeper and deeper, the longer Roman looked. 

Okay, maybe he hadn’t known Roman was there. But he knew now. No going back.

With a brisk shake of his head, Virgil let some of his hair fall back over his face from where the air had brushed them aside. The bangs returned to their accustomed place, strands covering and protecting his eyes slightly, dark locks obscuring them. Despite that, Roman could still see far more than Virgil no doubt wanted him to. 

Virgil looked away first. His hood was still pulled up over his head, fingers lifting to nervously play with the string as if he wanted to just tug on them until his whole face vanished within the darkness of the hood. 

“Hey Princey,” Virgil rasped, voice sounding almost painful, as if he had been crying or screaming recently and Roman really didn’t want to know which. 

“Virge...”

Now they were standing there, Roman felt almost lost for words. And Roman never felt lost for words. 

He had practised of course. He had rehearsed all manner of things to say to Virgil. He had considered how best to appeal to his sense of loyalty, how to beg him to still be friends. How to prove that he had forgiven Virgil in turn, that really he didn’t think there was anything to forgive him for. How to thank him for being the better, stronger, man and doing what needed to be done. Virgil had saved him and Roman needed to show just how grateful he was for that. 

All the grand plans, all the great declarations, the gestures Roman had spent so much time practising, they all crowded up in his mind, each wanting to be said over the other until it was impossible for him to actually focus on any one of them. He wanted to say so much and yet now he couldn’t seem to say a thing, whispers of thank you, forgive me, of how awesome you are and how lucky I am, swirling around and around in his mind like water circling a drain. Except there was no handy hole at the bottom for his thoughts to slip out of, no safety valve for them to move through.

None of those came out of his mouth. Instead, what he said was far simpler, two words that echoed from his heart. 

“I’m sorry.”

Virgil looked back up at him, expression guarded, wary. Something seemed to flicker in his brown eyes, a hint of an emotion that fled before Roman could get a proper read on it. He lifted a thumb, biting at the nail for a second before swallowing, expression shifting into something that was very obviously, deliberately blank. 

“Why would you be sorry?”

“I could make a list,” Roman replied, still fighting to keep his voice even. The urge to shout, to beg and plead and go to any length in order to make sure Virgil listened and understood was still burning brightly in his mind, a flickering flame that refused to go out. He wanted to climb onto the table and scream at the top of his lungs so that every animal in this world would hear what he had to say, so that everyone would know just how much he cared. Roman wanted to break into song and dance, a musical number to show his extreme emotions, something completely awesome.

All the sort of dramatic behaviour that Virgil hated in fact. 

This was meant to be about Virgil, for Virgil. The least he could do was have this conversation on his terms and try and do it in a way that made him feel more comfortable. He had to reach out in a way that Virgil would hopefully understand and accept. Virgil deserved nothing less.

“Let’s start with the big one. I’m sorry I asked you not to do it.” 

Neither of them needed to mention exactly what it was, they both knew, the memory of that moment hanging over them like those dark storm clouds that Virgil had adopted as a personal symbol. Roman still shuddered to remember how he had behaved, how ghastly he had been to Virgil, and all for nothing. No, worse than nothing. Virgil gave a one shoulder shrug in response, still trying to appear dismissive, uncaring. 

He wasn’t nearly as good a liar as Deceit. 

It was almost laughably easy to tell how badly he did care, how the expression of relief was growing more and more obvious by the moment even as Virgil fought to keep it under control. Roman was glad that Virgil wasn’t a good liar, that he was honest even when he tried not to be. There was some merit in his old theory that Virgil was a side representing Honesty. He couldn’t bend the truth as well as any of the others and yet when it came down to it, his true thoughts would always shine through. 

“I mean it Virgil,” Roman insisted, when it became obvious that the other side wasn’t going to say anything further and he couldn’t just leave it at that. He had to keep trying, had to make Virgil see how truly sorry he was. “You saved me and I should never have tried to use what we have against you.” 

“You were just doing what you thought you had to. I’m sorry too, that I didn’t listen. It should have been your choice but because you made the one that I personally thought was wrong, I just... ignored you. I’m sorry for that.” Virgil replied and no, that wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want or need an apology back and he certainly didn’t want his actions justified. What he had done in that moment had been wrong, pure and simple. It didn’t matter what Virgil had been trying to do, he still struck a low and terrible blow when he shouldn’t have. 

“You did the right thing. I was so wrapped up in the idea of heroes and villains. I guess at my core I’m not so different after all without my memories. I still see things in black and white, whereas you see all the grey in between. I saw myself as the villain and I couldn’t understand why you wanted to bring back someone who had been so horrible to you for so long. Someone who hadn’t behaved like a Prince and never gave you the chance you deserved.” Roman paused for a moment to catch his breath, the words almost falling over themselves in their haste to be said. He had no idea how long he had, how much Virgil would listen to and he couldn’t afford to waste a single second. 

“I...” Virgil trailed off, a conflicted expression on his face. His hands were no longer playing with the strings of his hood, Virgil shoving them in the pockets of his hoodie instead, as if forcing them to be still. That had to be an improvement right? Virgil was no longer bursting with restless energy that had no proper outlet. His hood was still up however and Roman wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not. 

“I didn’t exactly behave like I deserved a chance Ro, you know that. You remember that now,” Virgil told him softly, a resigned tone to his voice. As if he believed he deserved all those years of semi isolation. No, this wasn’t going well. 

“I still should have given you one. We were kids, that doesn’t mean I should have decided you were dark and be done with it. Nothing you did ever warranted the way I treated you. I remember that. I guess... some part of me still doesn’t understand? Why you picked... me... over him?” Even as Roman said the words, he knew he hadn’t expressed himself clearly, that he hadn’t said exactly what he meant. Just like Patton had once said, words were tough. It would be easier if Virgil could just see inside his mind, see all the emotions and floating thoughts and understand them all. Maybe even translate them for Roman himself, because he certainly didn’t get everything inside his own head.

“You think I would have just left you like that?” Virgil looked horrified by his own words, an expression of heartbreak on his features and no, no, that was not the reaction that he had wanted. 

Roman was making a complete mess of this.

“No, I just meant... we were horrible to each other as kids sometimes. And then as adults. I guess what I meant was... if it was the other way around and I had the chance to skip all that pain and just have my friend without any other complications... I’m not sure I would have been as strong as you. As brave as you,” Roman admitted, voice dropping to a near whisper as he finished. 

It was a shameful thing to admit, but he had made up his mind to be truthful, to lay all his cards on the table. Virgil deserved to know everything, the good and the bad, and that included his own darker thoughts. Would he have thrown the memory orb? Roman liked to think so, wanted to hope so. But he didn’t know for sure, he couldn’t know for sure. The thought of being able to save Virgil from the pain of the past was a tempting one, Roman couldn’t lie about that.

As well as not having the guilt which always simmered in his mind whenever he looked at the anxious side and thought about all the time they had wasted. All the bad choices Roman had made which had caused Virgil to be isolated. Or the ones Virgil had made himself, which had also led to him being alone and miserable. They had both made bad choices. 

It would have been far too easy to decide that Virgil would have been better off ‘reset’ so to speak but it wouldn’t have been the right choice. And that wouldn’t have been his choice to make - just as it had been Roman’s choice to keep his memories. He could have eaten the Jelly again if he had wanted to, could have wiped himself clean out of choice, and Virgil had given him the ability to do that. Roman didn’t want to, and he was pretty sure that Virgil would have done the same thing. He had to remind himself of that. It wasn’t up to him to play God like that, to decide what Virgil did and didn’t remember. Roman was still just glad he had never been placed in that situation, that he had never needed to do the right thing. 

“It wasn’t bravery,” Virgil replied with a brisk shake of his head, refusing to accept the compliment. “Stubbornness maybe? Stupidity? I was so scared...”

“And you did it anyway. That’s bravery to me Virgil. Even when I was an absolute monster and threatened to destroy our friendship. I should never have done such a thing.”

“It’s fine Roman,” Virgil insisted, in a voice that Roman could clearly tell meant it wasn’t fine. It couldn’t be just fine, just like that. 

Some deflections Roman could accept. Some excuses for his own behaviour because he wanted to think he hadn’t been all bad. That moment was not one of them. That was not a moment he could let slip by without any further comment. Virgil needed to know how badly Roman regretted saying what he had, as well as what had compelled him to threaten that in the first place. 

“No, it was cruel and wrong of me Virgil. I tried to use our friendship against you, that isn’t something that can just be waved away with a ‘it’s fine’. It deserves a proper explanation for why I behaved like such a beast. Even without my memories, even when I was doing my best to be what I thought was a better version of myself, I still... sunk to such terrible depths. I just. I...” Roman swallowed heavily and it was harder than he expected, to explain himself. 

It meant cracking his own heart open and laying everything on the line, knowing full well that Virgil could still reject it all. He would be well within his rights too, there was no hard guarantee that he would accept it. Roman could be brave though, he had to be brave because the potential reward was more than worth it. 

“Why did you use that threat?” Virgil asked after a moment. He kicked at the ground with the tip of his shoe, tiny flecks of dirt flying up into the air around them. “Was it just because.. I dunno, you knew how pathetic I was? How needy?” 

“No!” Roman took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment and this was far more painful than even he had ever imagined. No less than he deserved of course, but it still hurt to think that Virgil thought of himself in such terms. That he thought that Roman thought of Virgil in those terms. 

“I said it because it was the worst thing I could think of that could happen to us both. I... you were the most important thing in my life Virgil, you were my rock without my memories. You were my hero. I was ashamed of who I had been, and I thought I could do better, for myself, for Thomas and for you.” He wasn’t really sure if this was making any of it better, but it was all he had left to offer, his honesty. Roman could remember his thought process, as clear as day, he could remember how sure he had felt that this was the right thing to do, that rejecting his past was the obvious answer. 

“Oh...” Virgil didn’t seem upset at least, a more thoughtful expression on his features as they stood there, eyebrows pulled into a faint frown. 

“And you still mean the world to me. You’ll still my hero,” Roman added firmly, the thought belatedly occurring to him.

“Wha... oh come on Roman, you don’t need to say that kinda stuff now.” Virgil’s cheeks were undeniably red now, the blush obvious even though the pale foundation he liked to cake on. Roman couldn’t help but wonder if the reason he put it on was to try and avoid situations like this, to keep his edgy reputation. To pretend that he didn’t care. After all, it was Virgil that had refused to say ‘I love you’, that had instead insisted it should be ‘an understood’ thing - and he had said that long before he had been accepted, before they had realised just how important he was and how much they cared. Virgil had cared, right from the start. 

Virgil could try and deny his feelings on the outside all he liked. He could pretend he was cool and emo with nothing else going on if he wanted but it was far too late for that to be believable. Roman had seen him horse riding, he had seen him laughing around a campfire and most importantly he had seen him going full feral and claiming victory in a snowball fight by any means possible. There was so much more to Virgil than the disinterested edgy persona he tried to show to the world. Virgil might have wanted to try and scare them for his own reasons, or because he felt like he had no other choice but that didn’t change who else he had been. 

More shame on Roman for being fooled by it for all these years. 

“I mean it,” Roman said firmly, moving around the table as he spoke. His eyes never left Virgil’s face, the other side seemingly frozen in place. It gave Roman courage, knowing that Virgil wasn’t moving, that he was letting Roman get closer. He was allowing him to bridge that gap between them at last. 

At least it wasn’t a repeat of the fiasco with Deceit. 

Disbelief was still evident on Virgil’s expression, warring with hope, as if he couldn’t quite allow himself to feel either fully but was unwilling to settle on one emotion or the other. It was better than Roman could have dared hope, especially after he had explained his feelings so poorly at the start. It was something to work with, something to work on and that was the important thing. That was what Roman had to focus on, doing his best to make sure his expression remained open and warm, that there was nothing in it that would make Virgil panic. 

Roman didn’t say another word until he was in front of him. Slowly, he reached out, hands finding Virgil’s own and drawing them out of his pockets.There was no force to his movements, no pressure as he slipped his hands into the anxious sides own, Roman giving him every opportunity to pull away if he wanted to. Virgil made no attempt to move, simply stood there, eyes wide. Roman’s fingers entwined with Virgil’s, idly noticing how pale and cool they were in comparison to his own, more tanned ones. The subtle differences between them all never failed to fascinate him. 

This wasn’t the first time he had held Virgil's hand but it was by far the most important one. He had screamed the last time they had held hands - so had Virgil, but that was beside the point. What mattered was now. Smiling at Virgil and holding his hands now. Roman took a deep breath and spoke from the heart. 

“You’re my best friend. I can think of no worse punishment than being denied your company Virgil. From being denied your conversation. Even when you are the gloomy one, you’re still my best friend. There is no shame in that. Please... please forgive me and stop hiding? If you want to. I miss our evening chats, I miss our arguments over the dinner table, I even miss you insulting me and pointing out all the flaws in my latest idea because once I remove those flaws I always have something that is so much better than the previous effort. You make not only me, but everything better, just by being there. Come home?” 

There it was. 

His heart laid bare with his innermost thoughts offered up on a silver platter to Virgil. Roman trusted him though, trusted that he wasn’t going to get a stab in the heart as a result. No matter what happened, he knew better than to think that Virgil would ever be mean for the sake of being mean. All those times he had been cruel, had scared them, it had been because Virgil was scared himself, or because he felt it was the only way he could be listened to. That didn’t make it right, what he had done, but it did explain it a little bit at least. And here, there was no need for him to do any of those things. Even if he refused to come back home, Roman knew he wouldn’t be needlessly cruel about it. It would hurt beyond the telling, but he wouldn’t be mean.

Roman had to believe that. 

[skinandscalpsclinic]

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[inbonobo]

A while ago I read that #greying is due to #inSitu #bleaching. This new study however makes more sense.

Signalling from the sympathetic nervous system of mice when subjected to stress leads to the depletion of a stem-cell population in their hair follicles. This discovery sheds light on why stress turns hair prematurely grey.

It has been said that Marie Antoinette’s hair went completely white on the night before her beheading. This story might be apocryphal, but rapid greying of the hair is now widely referred to as Marie Antoinette syndrome. It is often assumed to be caused by stress — a phenomenon perhaps best exemplified by photographs of heads of state before and after they held office. However, the relative contributions of ageing, genetic factors and stress to greying are not known — in part owing to a lack of mechanistic understanding of the process. Writing in Nature, Zhang et al.1 identify the mechanism governing premature greying in mice that have experienced stress.

The average human scalp has 100,000 hair follicles, and a wide range of hair colours can be found across the human population. Hair colour is determined by cells called melanocytes, which produce different combinations of light-absorbing melanin pigments2. Melanocytes are derived from melanocyte stem cells (MeSCs), which are located in a part of the hair follicle called the bulge3. The normal hair cycle is divided into three stages: hair-follicle regeneration (anagen), degeneration (catagen) and rest (telogen). Melanocyte production begins early in the anagen phase (Fig. 1a). As people age, the pool of MeSCs is gradually depleted — and so pigmented hair becomes ‘salt and pepper’ coloured, and then turns to grey and finally to white after a complete loss of pigment in all hair follicles4.

Aside from ageing, there are several factors that bring about premature greying, including dietary deficiencies5, disorders such as alopecia areata or vitiligo6,7, and stress8,9. Zhang et al. set out to test the role of stress in the greying process in mice. They exposed the animals to three different stressors — pain, restraint and a model of psychological stress — during different phases of hair growth. Each stressor caused depletion of MeSCs from the bulge region, eventually leading to the development of patches of white hair.

Prevailing theories posit that stress-induced greying involves hormones (such as corticosterone) or autoimmune reactions10. Zhang and colleagues examined these potential mechanisms, first by preventing corticosterone signalling and next by stressing animals that had compromised immune systems. In both cases, greying occurred after stress, indicating that neither corticosterone nor autoimmune reactions cause MeSC depletion. However, the authors found that MeSCs express β2-adrenergic receptors, which respond to noradrenaline — a neurotransmitter molecule involved in the ‘fight or flight’ response to stress. Loss of this receptor specifically in MeSCs completely blocked stress-induced greying.

Adrenal glands are the main source of circulating noradrenaline. But, surprisingly, the researchers discovered that removing these glands did not prevent greying in response to stress in the mice.

Another source of noradrenaline is the sympathetic nervous system (SNS), which is highly active in response to stress, and which drives the fight-or-flight response. Zhang and colleagues showed that bulge regions are highly innervated by sympathetic neurons, and that ablating the SNS using a neurotoxin molecule, or blocking the release of noradrenaline from sympathetic neurons, prevented stress-induced greying. Next, the authors generated mice in which sympathetic neurons could be acutely activated, and found that overactivation of the SNS in these mice caused greying in the absence of stress. Together, these results indicate that noradrenaline released from active sympathetic neurons triggers MeSC depletion (Fig. 1b). Interestingly, Zhang et al. found that the propensity of an area to turn grey correlates with its level of sympathetic innervation.

Exactly how does sympathetic activity cause depletion of MeSCs from hair follicles? Normally, these stem cells are maintained in a dormant state until hair regrowth is required. However, when the researchers tracked MeSCs labelled with a fluorescent protein, they discovered that MeSC proliferation and differentiation increase markedly under extreme stress or exposure to a high level of noradrenaline. This results in mass migration of melanocytes away from the bulge, and leaves no remaining stem cells. To further confirm this result, the researchers suppressed MeSC proliferation pharmacologically and genetically. When proliferation was dampened, the effects of stress on MeSC proliferation, differentiation and migration were blocked.

Zhang and colleagues’ work raises several questions. For instance, is the mechanism underlying MeSC depletion in response to stress the same as that which causes greying during ageing? Future experiments modulating SNS activity over a longer period would determine whether age-related greying can be slowed or hastened. Perhaps, in the absence of sympathetic signals, MeSCs have the capacity for unlimited replenishment, pointing to a way to delay age-related greying.

Are other pools of stem cells similarly susceptible to stem-cell depletion in response to stress, if they or the cells that make up their niche express β2-adrenergic receptors? In support of this idea, haematopoietic stem and progenitor cells (HSPCs), which give rise to blood and immune lineages, reside in a bone-marrow niche that contains stromal cells, and stimulation of those cells by the SNS causes HSPCs to leave their niche11,12. Perhaps, like MeSCs, stress depletes HSPCs — which could partially explain why immune function is impaired in response to chronic stress13,14. Whether this type of relationship extends beyond MeSCs and HSPCs is an open question.

It is fascinating to consider what possible evolutionary advantage might be conferred by stress-induced greying. Because grey hair is most often linked to age, it could be associated with experience, leadership and trust15. For example, adult male silverback mountain gorillas (Gorilla beringei beringei), which get grey hair on their backs after reaching full maturity, can go on to lead a gorilla troop16. Perhaps an animal that has endured enough stress to ‘earn’ grey hair has a higher place in the social order than would ordinarily be conferred by that individual’s age.

Connecting the dots between stress, fight or flight, stem-cell depletion and premature greying opens up several avenues for future research. Beyond developing anti-greying therapies, Zhang and colleagues’ work promises to usher in a better understanding of how stress influences other stem-cell pools and their niches.

Nature 577, 623-624 (2020)

doi: 10.1038/d41586-019-03949-8

(via How the stress of fight or flight turns hair white)

also: harvard, hscrb, time, ts

[mikkock]

HELLO I ADORE YOUR OCS SO MUCH WILL YOU TELL ME ABOUT KAI HE LOOKS LIKE A TOTAL "YOUR DAUGHTER CALLS ME DADDY TOO" DOUCHEBAG AND I FUCKING LOVE HIM AND WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT HIM

LBLMVBGK THANK U OMG love it when ppl like my kids, im a proud dad rn

ALSO wrow congrats on ur on point analysis, cause, that’s the Essence Of His Being (fun fact since i got two characters who go by the name of kai -cause fuck that basic writing tip that says ‘dont have two characters named the same thing- i usually refer to him as The Bad Kai cuz he a bad bitch)

so lets unwrap that dude shall we uwu 

SO this dude was created when i realised my story didnt have antagonists so i made a bunch of Bad People and then they all became good people after i started giving them more personnality somehow eXCEPt him for some reason, the only survivor of the “everyone will be baby” plague, the only rude bitch in this house, the only guy who’s still on the dark grey side of morally grey...but tbh im in love with him cause he’s an asshole and im an idiot so like.

His base concept was basically something along the lines of “fuckboy but make it Couture”, like douchebag indeed But Gotta Be Fancy at being one, gotta add a pinch of Sneaky Bitch in the pot. His aesthetic is Chillin, gettin in ur pants, then moving on for some more chillin and more pants. So if you’re into some funky sexy time with no pressure and no ties, ya gon get along, your goals meet, time to have fun.

All that is supported by his charisma, cause unless ya got some nasty history, he’ll just look like that charming bad-boy “oho hot dude with a dangerous but not agressive” vibed person, and he’s quite a sweet-talker. He’s probs not only the ‘your daughter calls me daddy’ kind but also ‘and so will YOU, i’m scoring with the whole family and you wont stop me (and you wont WANT to stop me)’ 

He got that handsome ppl priviledge ya feel

but also, he wouldnt be a rude guy if he was just the ‘i enjoy chill frick-fracking and im just so sexy that no one can say no to that booty’ guy

Dude got quiiite some spite-fueled ego and Does Not Take losing well, and will not, in fact, let himself lose on any objective he has, and when that objective is A Person, he gets ugly. Being good at sweet talking also means being good at small stuff like “not saying exactly the truth always when it would be more beneficial not to”, “deliberately using euphemistic, ambiguous or obscure language so to mask wrong doings and technically saying the truth but in such a way that it becomes completely masked by a thick fog of bullshit”, and “use words and behaviour in general to influence others unscrupulously so to get something in return”. Even a little “playing with their perception in order to make them doubt in their thoughts and selves”. In short dude got no qualms about using all the tools of manipulation available if it means that he comes on top (or on bottom if the goal was getting an assful eeeeeey we’re masters of comedy here) It tends to be all for short term results tho, so not much your ‘boyfriend who convinces you you’re nothing without him” and more of a “you thought you were dating but only you were thinking that as he always kept it just vague enough to have you not official yet convinced of his and now you’re blaming yourself for believing you were together”

master of getting ass, also master of Ugly Ass Breakups, and master of suddenly dissapearing from your life so hard that you wonder if it was just your imagination all along (he got ugly past with a bunch of other ocs especially he’s ex boyfriend with two that are now together cause i dig that sort of drama the sAME dUDe gave u the trust issues that held u from going full lovey dovey ? i fucking lIVE off that kinda shit wait until he pops back like ‘oho hello fancy seeing YOU TWO here my two fave exes together incredible what a small world”)

Though I have to rework on all that cause that backstory is oLD AS SHIT (like prolly i built it in what, 2016? ew ugly) I had that stem from some sort of neglect-fueled inferiority complex. I had given him a kinda cold family with a bunch of siblings who got Way More Nurtured due to their respective talents and achievements, having him left behind and feeling like he got nothing. SO that’s basically the explanation as of today but i dont like iiiiit anymooooore so I’ll have to work on it to make it something i dig, cause idk, bitch feels flat so far.

BUT i do intend on keeping the whole concept of ~Loneliness~, and of him working alone and quite hard for anything he gets. And the general need of proving himself that had come from the WIP backstory. I don’t exactly see him as an overachiever at all, but definitly as an obstinate and persevering hardworking guy, because “Look YALL I WAS aBLE TO DO THIS YALL THOUGHT I COULDNT HUH YALL LOOK DOWN ON ME well fuck u cause idc im better than u now also ur mum’s into bondage i kno from experience bye”. So tbh pair up with him for group projects, you’ll be sure his share of the work will be done (but also if you dont do yours then he’s probably going to be a bITCh about it, no remorse in leaving blank slides in the middle of the powerpoint and then loudly proclaiming ‘OH RIGHT This was supposed to be Kevin’s part but I suppose he never sent it to me, despite the numerous reminders i sent him, no big deal, no hard feelings, its ok sweetie we all sometimes feel too lazy i forgive u :)” )

Also he’d be Chill to hang out with for like, parties, nights out at the bar, that kinda shit. He definetly has some beans to spill about quite some people, he gathers the goss as he gathers lovers (i was gonna end that in “as he spreads legs” but it sounded too PG-18 for this good Well Behaved family friendly blog) and Will Not stay tight lipped, and Will be a bitch when trashtalking people, and It Will Be Entertaining as it always is when you’re hearing about crazy exes and you’ve had some beers. 

Now trivia that idk where else to write cause idk i stupid or more like disorganised :

- he digs red ale beer like if ya wanna win him over with the appropriate alcohol offer there u go

- he’s a fake blonde (cause my hobby is painting regrowth roots on hair)

- his design is a mixture of those 3dgy denim boys u see on pinterest and the specific brand of fuckboys that are french-L-section-chic-grunge-hipster-fuckboys (L section is like a branch of highschool)(that word combo is a so specific kinda guy)(its kinda like a softboi but more arrogant but in a lowkey way)(also they rich)(but he’s not rich so guess that should make him Less Arrogant)

-im constantly dead afraid of giving him more characteristics and story or whatveer cause he’s the only meanie i got left and i do Not want him to stop being an asshole but everytime i develop a character they end up nice or redeemed or whatever and i wanna keep him a bitch so i neglect him (just like his parents in his 2016 version wow)

he smokes (prolly started quite early to Be Kool and now relies on it for stress relief)

he’s outspoken and extraverted and prolly the guy who had a lot to say when you were doing debates in class (there’s always that person who has a Lot to argument about)(its him) but outside of a Set and Defined debate structure he probably doesnt give his mind voraciously 

he’s a law student and despite saying he’s the one bad guy left he probably wont be a corrupt lawyer or judge or whatever like come on he will do his job properly he worked hARD FOR THIS justice may be served

he’s not the kind to openly hate or even dislike anyone cause what’s the point of wasting your energy on that? its much funnier to him to be obnoxiously Neutral with someone and basically ignore them but still strike them with some Spikes of passive-agressive comments, let them be Mad at your calmness

he’s 177cm tall (that’s like 5.8 according to google)

honestly if you’re bros with him he’s fun to be with the being a jerk is completly coincidental 

he probably ranks high in the list of “those criminals who steal big lighters from their friends” 

i think at a point his design had tattoos but i forgot the designs of those so now he doesnt anymore

a dog person

i think ive run out of facts (or my brain dead) so im leavin with a shirtless pic cause my hobby is drawing tits

in short, charming asshole who can get ugly, secretly feels lonely and small, works hard for himself, better have him as a friend than as a foe though probably not the most frontally agressive enemy, and also, your booty, hand it over.

[galinadamodred]

After lunch, Galina had some hours to her own, while Lilith now had the task to give a lesson. So the Accepted went to her room, sat down on the bed and started practicing the weaves for the Testing. They seemed so menial after having had control over so much more of the Power. But still they had to be done, if she wanted to be Aes Sedai. Actually it was no use, just repeating the weaves. The practice was most effective if someone else helped you with distractions. But the other Accepted stayed away from her, since her return to the Tower. Lilith was the only one who dared to speak with her. At least more words than the bare necessities.

It was like they knew of her conflict, that she no longer fully walked in the light.

But was reaching for power, abandoning the light? Asmodeos had said, that the aspect of Shadow, that the Black Path encompassed, was the same as the Shadow that had dreaded to end her world. But was it?

The Black Dragon‘s major aspect was the End. But not an infinite ending, but one that also allowed regrowth and creation. So unlike the Dark One, the Black Dragon did not exist outside the Pattern or the cycle, how the people of the Dragonlands called it. Shadow at least the aspect of it seemed more like a tool to attain power, like deciet and secrecy were, enlightenment too in a way.

The pursuit of Power did not make her a bad person or a darkfriend. It was neither bad nor good. What you did with that Power, was what determined how you were perceived.

She could follow the path of the Black Dragon without abandoning the light, or at least without straying into the ranks of the Shadow. She just had to find a way to skirt the rules.

Becoming an Aes Sedai would burden her with the Oaths, something that would hold her back in a major way. But attaining the shawl held it’s own powers and freedoms, resources more than useful. And she finally had the opportunity to return to Potentia a place she longed for ever since she had left it.

Galina finished the last weave, she hadn’t really paid attention, but still managed to complete every single one. Maybe it was time to claim what was hers. She got up and straightened her banded skirts. The light willing, she wouldn’t wear them for a long time after what she was about to do.

Calmly she checked herself in the bubbled glass of the mirror, before leaving her quarters. Determined she left the Accepted‘s wing with her goal in mind, the way before her. Only the price was not clear yet.

On her way to her destination, she remembered something Amsodeos had said in the circle. „Elements are willful beings. Do you really think, they like to be commanded?“ The same applied to Aes Sedai. So she laid out her words carefully. Cammanding would not do, begging wouldn’t either. But maybe a firm demand, conveyed in a civil manner could have the desired effect. That realization woke the urge to touch her forehead once more. But she withstood this time.

She wove her way around Novices in the halls on her way down to the Misstresses‘ study. Erelle would not be pleased to hear what she had to say. But she wasn’t either, when she had asked her to go to the Dragonlands and still she had been allowed to leave. The Mistress of Novices might be a Gray, but logic seemed to impress her as much as a White.

Her cool determination, granted her the ability to remain utterly calme, she already felt like an Aes Sedai, as she glided through the white halls, despite wearing the dress of an Accepted. Finally she reached the door made of dark wood, a door dreaded by almost every girl in the Tower. It was a symbol, a harbinger of the punishment that awaited her here, every time she misstepped. Galina had been here more often than she could count, at least in her time as a Novice. Once or twice she had been spanked then. The last time was so long ago, before all that with Tulius and her father had happened. She had been called back to the Tower, since the last Mistress had gotten reports of her misbehaving, prompting a stay in the Tower, including mortification of the flesh. Only a few days after her return to Sutch, the message about her father had arrived and everything had gone south. She suppressed the memories of it and set her mind back on the task at hand. It would never happen again. That was why, the thing she was about to do, had to work.

Galina knocked. Silence. She withstood the urge to fidget nervously, in fact she took all her nervousness and stuffed it in a box in the back of her mind, whilst imagining herself being a flower opening to the sun.

Again she knocked in a firm but still polite manner. Finally she could make out Erelle Sedais voice from inside the study. „Come In, child!“ she said, a tinge of irritation in her voice, only audible to those dealing with Aes Sedai for some time.

Galina opened the wooden door and entered the small room, head held high. It had no windows and the walls were of dark wood like the door. A big mirror hung on the wall, for the delinquents to watch themselves being chastised. Light willing she would not do the same in the near future.

Erelle was an older sister, her hair already turning grey at the temples, putting her between approximately 200 and 250 years in age. She would never know for certain, age being a delicate matter among Aes Sedai. Her otherwise dark blonde hair was in a bun on the back of her head, no strand of it, out of place. She wore round glasses, sea-folk work. And through them, her steelgrey eyes measured her with an air of displeasure at the interruption.

She was not alone, Galina had noticed instantly. A woman with reddish blonde hair sat on the other chair, clad in a white algode blouse and dark brown skirts, her neck was decked out in jewelry and a brown scarf hung around her shoulders. Unlike Erelles smooth features, her face was marked by fine lines. An Aiel Wise One.

She watched her enter curiously, her eyes resting on the face a moment longer, the eyepatch.

Before Erelle could say a word, the Aiel woman spoke: „I did not know, you sent the apprentices into battle too, Erelle Mosalin!“

The Mistress blinked and remained silent for an instant. When she spoke the irritation had increased „No we do not, Galina here is a... special case.“

The Wise One raised an eyebrow, now watching her with intrigue. „I will listen to that story with great interest, Accepted Galina.“ Erelle shook her head. „Not now Kaline. I am sure the child has something she wishes to discuss with me. Were you sent here?“ the Aes Sedai‘s hands went to a quill and the book of punishment but the Accepted quickly shook her head. „No, I am here of my own volition, Erelle Sedai!“ she courtseyed. „And I ask your forgiveness for interrupting your conversation! If you wish, I will gladly wait outside for it to finish.“

The Mistress‘s eyes went to her guest, who only shrugged, still watching Galina with great interest.

„Well it is already interrupted and it was me who asked you in. So what is it, that you wish to speak about? Your reports about the Dragonlands?“ - „No! They are already in the hands of Antonia Sedai. But it is the same direction.“ She suppressed the urge to shift on the spot, while calmly making her demand: „As you well may know, I belong to the very few, who can say, to have seen the worlds beyond the portal stones. And I know First Hand, what dangers they hold, for everyone! Dangers that need to be assessed, so the Tower can prepare, for the case, that these dangers find their way to our world. And who else but, me would be suited better for such an endeavor?“ Erelle looked like she wanted to throw in something, but Galina kept on, voice firm but calme. „I am in the unique position, of having gained some measure of trust by some of the most powerful mages beyond the Stones. And to keep me in the Tower, robs us of valuable time, to prepare all the means necessary to avert catastrophy. Even more, the venture beyond the stones, can give us valuable resources, to counter other threats, from within our world. That is why, I now formally ask of you, to let me take the test for the shawl as soon as possible!“

Galinas last words seemed to hang in the air, as the room turned eerily silent. Erelle watched her for almost a minute, disbelieve, peeking through her Aes Sedai serenity. That demand was nothing she heard everyday, as it was custom, that a girl was tested when the Mistress saw fit, not the other way around. Kaline in the other hand, watched her with a spark of fiendish pleasure in her eyes.

The Accepted just stood there, serene and collected, like expected of an Aes Sedai, shoulders straight and head held with confidence, but not smugness.

„Has she been among the tents?“ the voice of the Wise One broke the silence with a chuckle. The cairhienin shook her head gracefully. „No, I was trained by the atha‘an miere for a time, before gaining a position in a academy beyond the Stones.“

Erelle still seemed to be at a loss for words. Just watched her, face now thoughtful. Kaline shrugged. „I could have sworn to see a spark of Amys in you.“

A gentle smile flashed across Galinas lips. Being compared to her, was an honor.

Finally Erelle spoke. Her voice was collected, she did not seem phased anymore by what the Accepted has asked of her. „You are aware child, that it is custom for the Mistress of Novices to decide, when a woman is tested for the shawl. But do you know, why this custom is in place?“

The woman had not expected her to just say yes and questions along those lines had seemed very likely, so she was prepared. „Because the Mistress of Novices watches the Accepted very closely and has insight into their development and abilities.“ Erelle nodded satisfied at her words and seemed like she wanted to point out, that this was the exact reason, why an Accepted did not make such demands. But Galina kept going. „But isn’t it the woman in question, the one who has the greatest insight into her own advancement? Or at least she should, if she is really ready to become Aes Sedai. I am fully aware of my abilities, my strengths and my challenges. I know my goal, I know the way and the price that needs to be paid. Let me prove myself in the Testing! And if I fail, I will claim responsibility in front of the Tower, in front of the whole world of you wish and then quietly take my leave!“

The Wise One had listened, face thoughtful. Now barely recognizable, she seemed to nod, and Galina recognized a sense of approval on her face.

Erelle‘s face on the other hand, had turned to a cool mask, violently keeping back any trace of emotion.

Maybe she had gone to far. Nervousness crept up once more and she had to stifle the urge to swallow.

„You have made your point, child. I will consider your words.“ her voice showed next to no clue on how she would decide. Galina felt a strong sense of reluctance, but she could have imagined it aswell.

With that she was dismissed.

Out in the hall, she had to pull herself together, not to lean against the wall, around the next corner. Instead she crossed her arms behind her back and glided back to her quarters.

She made her way back to the Accepted‘s wing and her room, where Lilith waited. The other Accepted sat on the bed, muttering over a book. Galina closed the door quickly a and sank against it, needing all her strength to not slump down.

„There you are! I‘ve been waiting for... Galina? Are you okay?“

The Cairhienin had bowed her head, and her hand once more rested on her forehead. Shadow, to cloak her from the eyes of her enemies.

She shook off the stupor and with a sudden laugh she looked up to her friend.

„I must be mad Lilith! I just outright demanded of Erelle to test me!“